3 All aflutter

Chapter 3 All aflutter As dawn broke, Luke and Sarah were loading Tesla's equipment into a horse-drawn carriage that Bessie had arranged. Sarah held the horse's head while Luke and Bessie got the boxes from the workshop and stowed them in the carriage.

"No one appreciates me," Tesla grumbled. The carriage horse snorted and tossed its head. "My work is important for the future. But I will die and be forgotten!" "Nobody's dying yet, Mr. Tesla," said Bessie as she put the wireless model boat into the carriage. "We'd better take everything back to your hotel." They bumped and rattled down cobbled roads. Sarah hung on to her hat, which was in danger of flying off. Tempo wheeled overhead and Luke envied the smoothness of her flight.

Tesla's hotel was a dingy looking place on a main road. It was tall and dark, with a peeling sign and an old gas lamp beside a chipped, brown door. Luke noticed pigeons flying in and out of a window near the top of the building. "That is my room," said Tesla, waving at the pigeon window. "He loves the pigeons," Bessie explained as they lugged the workshop equipment up the narrow stairs with their spindly bannisters and peeling maroon walls. "He's always rescuing injured ones." Tesla's room was a dreadful mess, with pigeon droppings all over the wood floor and the windowsill. Feathers drifted in the air. Pigeons were roosting on the sofa, armchairs, and bedposts. Bird food was

scattered on most of the surfaces. The sound of cooing was deafening. "Cuckoo!" said Tempo politely, settling down on a bedpost beside a white-splotched pigeon. It took several trips to get all of the equipment safely up the stairs. A number of hotel guests were at breakfast, watching with disapproval and muttering about the disruption. Luke, Sarah, and Bessie tramped in and out with boxes, wires, lamps, and tools, while Tesla shouted instructions like, "Be careful! No, no, you will crush it! You are dropping it!"

Finally, every box was stacked in Tesla's room. Luke flopped into a mustard-colored armchair, disturbing a roosting pigeon. He was already exhausted and the day had hardly begun. What kind of mission was this? There was an angry knock. A large lady in a blue apron put her head around the door. She gazed in horror at the pigeons. "Mr. Tesla," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "My guests are complaining about the noise and nuisance. And you cannot keep pets. Our house rules are very clear on that." A pigeon chose that moment to flap right past her face. She gave a little shriek. "You and your flying rats must

leave," she said a little breathlessly. "Right away!" The door banged shut. Tesla groaned. "Again and again!" he raged. "Despite my marvelous inventions, see how they treat me! I will give up my work! I will go back to Serbia! I will never darken the shores of America again!" "Krraak," said a pigeon.